Who I Am
by CityofAngel
Summary: A story of love, courage, and acceptance, about the struggle of three young people in finding their place in a world where blood- Pure or Mud- seems to be everything. 6th yr setting. HermioneOliver. Introducing D. Blaine (OC) as the new DADA teacher.
1. Comebacks

DISCLAIMER:  
The Harry Potter Series was created by and belongs to the great J.K. Rowling. I created and therefore own only the original character Professor Darien Blaine. Give credit where credit is due, I always say. (  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
I was inspired to finally write a Harry Potter fanfic after (at last!) reading the Order of the Phoenix (EXCELLENT piece of work, btw!). I'm new to the this fandom, so I'm not quite familiar with the tastes of the readers. But I assure you, I plan and work hard on my stories in order to give the best. I THRIVE on reviews! I'm open to corrections and constructive criticism though, but I cannot stand flames. So please. Just don't.  
  
Anyway, here goes . . . hope you like! (  
  
HAPPY READING!  
  
* * *  
  
WHO I AM  
  
Chapter One - COMEBACKS  
  
"Hogwarts Amateur Quidditch League." Ron Weasley read aloud from a brightly colored poster that hung on the notice board of the Gryffindor common room. "Improve your Quidditch game by mastering the basics and learning new tricks! Enjoy hours of playing and informal competition under the supervision and instruction of a professional player!"  
  
The lanky redhead shook his head, his stare growing somewhat dazed as his mind formed visuals of what he had just recited. "That's bloody brilliant." he breathed, swiveling his head slightly to the two other people who were peering at the sign from over his shoulder. "Quidditch lessons! The school's been in need of something like this for ages! I wonder what took them so long to come up with that idea?"  
  
Hermione Granger tossed her head, causing her long brown hair to swish smoothly across her shoulders. "They DID have an amateur Quidditch association in Hogwarts some decades ago." she told him simply, as though it were a bit of common knowledge rather than obscure trivia. "They were just forced to do away with it when an overly-eager instructor landed a group of students in St. Mungo's for multiple bone injuries. Caused big trouble between the school and the parents."  
  
At this, Ron turned away from the announcement poster to face his friend. "Let me guess." he said with a wry smirk. "You read it in 'Hogwarts, a History'?"  
  
Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, though in spite of herself she had to smile at the immaturity of this move. "Actually, for your information, it was from 'Quidditch Through the Ages'". she retorted.  
  
Ron groaned and shook his head. "Honestly girl, one day you're going to read yourself to death!" he mumbled. "For once, can't you just pretend that you have a normal I.Q. like everyone else around here?" He cast an expectant sideway glance at his other friend, a tall boy with messy black hair and glasses, obviously waiting for back-up.  
  
Harry Potter merely chucked and raised his hands palms up. "Hey, I'm not going to get involved in that age-old argument again!" he said firmly. Then, he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, focusing his green eyes back on the notice board. "Did you notice how suddenly there seem to be so many new organizations, clubs and extra-curricular activities sprouting up this year?"  
  
Hermione shrugged. "I guess Dumbledore was serious about his promise to make this year more enjoyable to make up for what we had to suffer last term." she mused, referring to their terrible Fifth year experience under the despotic control of the sadistic Dolores Umbridge.  
  
"A downright good chap, that Dumbledore!" Ron said cheerfully. "Now if there was ever more a Headmaster who really does care about the happiness of his students, it would definitely be him."  
  
His excited gaze then drifted towards the sign up sheet that was posted next to the Quidditch League notice, where about a half dozen signatures were already marked. After a half minute of fruitless rummaging inside his book bag, he turned to Hermione.  
  
"Mind if I borrow a quill?"  
  
Hermione smiled. "Not at all." she responded nonchalantly. "But I don't think you can join Amateur Quidditch, Ron."  
  
Ron raised his eyebrows. "And why is that?" he asked indignantly. "I won't be allowing it to interfere with my lessons and homework, if that's what you're so worried about. For gosh sakes Hermione, it would be nice if you stopped acting like my mother all the time. I get enough of that during the holidays!"  
  
Hermione gave him a patient, patronizing smile and pointed a finger at the poster on the notice board. "Just take a look at the rest of the details." she said calmly.  
  
Ron stared at the text he had failed to read at the bottom part of the announcement. "Open to Hogwarts students of all levels EXCEPT house players." he recited, then groaned in disappointment immediately after. "That's totally unfair!"  
  
"No, it's sensible." Hermione said. "The good players will only overshadow the beginners, and that will defeat the League's purpose. Honestly, Ron. What do you need basic lessons for when you already play for Gryffindor? That's already professional level, in some sense."  
  
"Well, extra Quidditch instruction never hurt anyone, right?" Ron answered defensively. "Free lessons from a pro! I'd get to learn a whole bunch of things that would help improve my game-and everyone knows I'm still in need of it."  
  
"Well, you'll just have to settle for learning and practicing with the help of your teammates, then." Hermione said serenely, ignoring Ron's sulky scowl. "I'm sure Katie Bell will make a great coach. She's much more laid back than both Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnson, anyway."  
  
"Actually . . ." Harry spoke up, suddenly breaking back into the conversation. "There's been a change of plans. Katie's not going to be the Gryffindor captain this year." He paused and took a deep breath before going on. "I am."  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
Harry cringed at the surprised cries of his two best friends. "Uh, yeah." he went on, rather uncomfortable under the shocked stares they were now throwing him. "She just informed me of her decision last night. She's chosen to pass on the captaincy to me, since she thinks she's not really cut out for the job, and because she's already got enough to think about and stress over. . . N.E.W.T.s and all that."  
  
"Harry, that's fantastic!" Hermione exclaimed happily, throwing her arms around him and giving him a big hug. "Congratulations! You completely deserve it, and I'm sure you'll do a great job."  
  
"What she said." Ron added with a smile, giving Harry a hearty thump on the back. "It'll be a relief to know the captain this year won't be such a tyrant, anyway."  
  
Harry grinned back and nodded. "Thanks." he said gratefully.  
  
Ron then sighed and cast a wistful look back at the Amateur Quidditch sign-up sheet. "What a waste." he muttered under his breath, as though speaking to himself. "A perfect opportunity for training and I can't even. . ."  
  
His voice trailed off, and his face brightened as though an idea suddenly struck him. He turned to Hermione with a huge grin.  
  
"Why don't YOU join, Mione?"  
  
Hermione stared back at him as though he had just suggested she go kiss a troll. "What?! Me?!"  
  
"Yeah, why not?" Ron said, his eyes sparkling. "Harry and I can't. You can. It would be a good experience for you. You're always asking us what we see in the game. Maybe taking lessons would finally give you clue and convince you of how brilliant it is!"  
  
Hermione shook her head, looking absolutely flabbergasted at the idea. "M-me? P-play Quidditch?" she spluttered. "That's ridiculous! I can barely even fly a broomstick properly!"  
  
"That's because you hardly ever get on one." Harry pointed out wisely. "Flying develops naturally with practice. I think you'll do great if you just exert more effort in learning. Besides, lord knows you've read enough books on Quidditch to know the rudiments of the game inside out, so no problems there."  
  
"Reading about the sport is a completely different thing from actually playing it!" Hermione protested. "Anyway," she continued hastily, deciding to bring up a new argument seeing her current one was failing. "I've already got too much to take on for sixth year. Aside from the usual class load I still have my Ancient Runes, I'm moving on to Advanced Arithmancy, I'll be taking Magical Remedies and First Aid, and of course there's S.P.E.W. . . "  
  
"We'll make you a deal." Harry interrupted. "You go and join the Amateur Quidditch League, and Ron and I will go back to helping you with your . . . er. . . .projects in S.P.E.W. Knitting new clothes and stuff. Whatever you need."  
  
"We will?" Ron began, but shut his mouth when Harry glared at him pointedly. "Oh. Yeah. Sure!"  
  
Hermione was totally silent for a long moment as she considered this tempting offer. At last, she sighed and shrugged her shoulders somewhat resignedly. "All right. Why not?" she mumbled.  
  
"Wicked!" Ron said enthusiastically, as Hermione pulled out her quill and jotted down her name on the sign-up sheet. "You won't regret this. You're going to have so much fun and will end up loving Quidditch almost as much as Harry and I do!"  
  
"I sure hope so." Hermione retorted, trying to give him a threatening glare in spite of the uncontrolled smile on her face. "Because if I end up in the hospital wing with a dozen shattered bones, I'll be blaming no one else but the two of you!"  
  
"I don't think there's a need to worry about that." Harry assured her, as they finally began making their way out of the Gryffindor common room to proceed to their classes for that morning. "I'm sure the pro player Dumbledore's hired to coach the League is most qualified person he can find. He or she will be great, you'll see."  
  
* * *  
  
A pair of keen brown eyes gleamed as footsteps sounded along the relatively empty second floor corridor that fine morning at Hogwarts. Oliver Wood could not keep an excited smile from creeping across his handsome face as his gaze took in the sight of the school he had graduated from only three years ago. It was great to be back in this place he had always seen as his second home, though it was now under very different circumstances.  
  
He had arrived just early that morning, and after going through a briefing session with Dumbledore regarding his duties and being shown to his new lodging quarters, he was now free to go around the school as he liked. His job was not to begin until two days from now, anyway. In the meantime, he was given the opportunity to catch up with old friends and re- familiarize himself with his former alma mater.  
  
The first goal was not going to be achieved just yet anyway, since the empty corridors told him most of the students were still holed up in the classrooms attending to their respective lessons. He had already received a hearty welcome back greeting from Nearly-Headless Nick and the Fat Friar, a raspberry and a couple of rude faces from Peeves, and a grumpy scowl from Filch, but what Oliver really wanted to run into right then was the familiar face of one of his Gryffindor friends. Like Katie Bell maybe, or Harry Potter . . .  
  
So lost in his thoughts was the former Quidditch captain that he did not even notice the presence of a person carrying an armful of books rounding the same corner he was about to turn. As a result, he collided straight on with something hard, and heard a scream of surprise that echoed his own as they both staggered back from the sudden impact. Oliver's remarkable reflexes kicked in quickly however, and his hands flew instinctively to the tower of books, keeping them from crashing to the ground.  
  
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" he apologized hastily, turning slightly red with embarrassment. "I wasn't looking where I was going! Here, let me help you with that . . . "  
  
"No, it's all right, thank you." an equally harried female voice protested, slightly muffled behind the heavy stack of books. "I'm just glad you were able to grab a hold of them before they flew everywhere."  
  
Oliver smiled, and took the upper half of the stack into his arms to allow himself a look at the mystery girl's face. "Now what kind of jerk would I be if just stood by and let a lady carry such a heavy load by herself?" he said lightly. "What are you doing with all this. . ."  
  
The rest of the sentence faded from his lips as he finally laid eyes on her, though he didn't really know why. She certainly was very pretty, with her long silky brown hair, large cinnamon eyes, and sweet heart shaped face, but he had seen lots of other girls who were better looking. On the other hand, there just seemed to be something vaguely familiar about this one.  
  
As he was trying to figure this out however, the girl surprised him by bursting him to a wide, rather stunning smile of surprise and recognition.  
  
"Oliver Wood!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Oh my goodness, what are you doing here?!"  
  
For a moment Oliver could only stare back her in embarrassment. This girl obviously knew him well enough to be happy to see him, while he didn't even have the faintest clue of who she was. "Uh . . ."  
  
Luckily, the girl did not seem to notice or mind the fact that he could not recognize her. "It's me, Hermione Granger!" she prompted. "Remember? Harry's friend?"  
  
The name instantly clicked in Oliver's mind, and drew back a memory of a rainy Quidditch match in his last year in Hogwarts when a witch-friend of Harry's charmed his glasses to make them water-repellant. But the girl he remembered from back then looked quite different from the one standing before him now. It was obvious that she had blossomed considerably since the last tine he had noticed her.  
  
Nevertheless, Oliver threw her a sincerely bright grin. "Oh yeah, of course I remember!" he said enthusiastically. "So how are you doing, Hermione?"  
  
"Just fine." Hermione replied, returning his smile. "And quite busy, as you can see."  
  
Oliver chuckled and nodded. "Understandable. You and Harry are in sixth year now, right?"  
  
"Yup." Hermione responded cheerfully, then looked up at him through eyes filled with curiosity. "What about you? What brings you back to Hogwarts?"  
  
Oliver shrugged, his eyes twinkling mysteriously. "What, can't a former student just come back to visit his old school once in a while?" he teased.  
  
Hermione grinned back and shook her head. "Not if they have a career as successful and hectic as yours." she responded, shifting the weight of the books in her arms. "Last I heard you've become quite a Quidditch legend in Puddlemere United. Youngest keeper to ever start for that team, or something like that."  
  
"Really." Oliver said, crossing his arms over his chest in bemusement. "What else have you heard?"  
  
"Not much." Hermione answered. "Or at least I don't really listen to the sports news the boys are always blabbering about. Quidditch doesn't really interest me. Sorry."  
  
Oliver laughed. "Not at all. I appreciate your honesty. Not too many people would be brave enough to say that to my face." he joked.  
  
"So let me get this straight." Hermione said, brushing her long hair away from her face in a manner that Oliver thought was really cute. "You're taking time off from all that excitement and athletic glory to come back to Hogwarts and visit?" She grinned. "Loyal as you may be to our school, I still find that hard to believe."  
  
Oliver smiled and shook his head. "Guilty as charged." he admitted. "It's not as if I had a choice, though. I pretty much am nothing but dead weight to the team with my injury."  
  
As he expected, surprise crossed Hermione's face when she heard this. She tilted her head to the side, giving him a careful one-over gaze. "Injury?" she repeated. "I don't see anything wrong with you. In fact, you're looking . . . great!"  
  
Oliver's eyes twinkled. "Thanks for the compliment, but it's not quite true." He then pulled his wand out of his robes and lightly tapped the stack of books he was carrying. "Wingardium leviosa!"  
  
As soon as the books were safely floating in the air and left his arm free for movement, he hiked up the sleeve of his turtleneck sweater.  
  
"I got hit by a bludger at a big game against the Cannons last month." he explained, gesturing at the heavy bandage that was wrapped securely around his elbow. "Literally snapped my arm in two at the joint. It was pretty bad- I was lucky enough not to have lost my forearm altogether."  
  
Hermione cringed. "That's terrible!" she agreed, shaking her head. "But weren't the healers able to do anything about it?'  
  
Oliver nodded grimly. "Sure, they were able to get my arm back in one piece. But it's still going to need a whole lot of therapy and time off. Not all things can be magically fixed, I guess. At least, not completely."  
  
"Gee, I'm sorry. That must really stink for you." Hermione said sympathetically. She then paused and looked apologetic. "That still doesn't quite explain what you're doing here, though . . . "  
  
Oliver laughed. "Persistent, aren't we?" he said with a teasing wink. "Well, I'll make you a deal . . ."  
  
He took back the floating books into his arms and grinned at her. "Let me walk you to your next class, and I'll tell you exactly why I'm here."  
  
The girl seemed greatly taken aback by this rather forward invitation. For a moment she lowered her gaze to the ground, suddenly looking quite uncomfortable. "Uh . . . well . . ."  
  
"Come on." Oliver wheedled "I don't think I'll be running into anyone else within the next hour anyway, and I would appreciate the company. You seem to be the only student who hasn't a class at the moment. "  
  
"I WAS in class." Hermione said defensively. "Charms class. It's just that we're having a practical exam on disillusionment charms today, and Professor Flitwick gave me an exemption since I did really well during practice."  
  
"Wow." Oliver said, looking sincerely impressed. "Disillusionment charms are very tricky. Up to now even I can't come up with one without breaking a huge sweat."  
  
Hermione shrugged this comment off. "Yes, well, since I'm free for the next hour I just thought I'd go to the library and go through a few of the books I bought and borrowed for extra reading."  
  
"Extra reading? A few?" Oliver snorted, eyeing the piles of books they both carried. "I doubt I touched this many books my entire seven years at Hogwarts!"  
  
Hermione couldn't help but smile back. "Now that's an exaggeration."  
  
Oliver grinned. "If you say so." He then threw her another imploring look. "Would you let me walk with you to the library then? It sure would beat wandering around these halls by myself getting glared at by Filch."  
  
At last, Hermione shook her head and sighed. "All right." she consented, and smiled as Oliver beamed with gratitude and they began to continue down that corridor together.  
  
"So what's the big secret?" the young witch asked again, giving the Quidditch player another curious gaze where he ambled along beside her. "What's brought you back to Hogwarts all of a sudden?"  
  
Oliver shrugged casually, keeping his gaze steady in front of them as he spoke. "It's not a secret, really. Neither is it that big a mystery. I'm actually surprised you haven't figured it out yet. I mean, you have seen the posters Dumbledore's put up advertising the League, haven't you?"  
  
"League?" Hermione echoed, staring at him blankly for a moment. Then, realization dawned on her face and she stopped abruptly in her tracks to gawk at him.  
  
"YOU'RE the pro who's going to teach the Amateur Quidditch League?!"  
  
* * *  
  
Professor Albus Dumbledore stroked his long silver beard rather absent-mindedly as he stood by the gates of the castle, staring thoughtfully out into the darkness of Hogsmede Village as though waiting expectantly for someone to arrive. Beside him, Professor Minerva McGonagall studied the pocket watch in her hand and shook her head a moment later.  
  
"He's late." the stern-faced witch muttered rather impatiently, casting a glance up the school headmaster's continually placid face. "It's nearly a half-hour past eleven."  
  
Dumbledore smiled, causing his blue eyes to sparkle. "Patience, Minerva. He will be here shortly, don't you fret." he assured her calmly. "You really must understand that the past few weeks have not been very easy for him. He's got a lot more to worry about right now than arriving for his appointments exactly on the dot."  
  
"Of course. I know that." McGonagall said quickly and almost guiltily. "I suppose I am just not used to him keeping his elders waiting. He always had such impeccable attendance when he was a student here ."  
  
Dumbledore sighed and nodded. "Ah yes." he agreed wistfully. "Well, people do tend to change, my dear Professor, as has been proven in many past cases. Most especially in dark times such as these, when there seems to be no helping it."  
  
"That poor lad." was all McGonagall could say. From the corner of his eye Dumbledore could see distress wrench her weathered face for a brief moment. "How much more suffering must be inflicted on him by those barbarians before he is finally left in peace?"  
  
"The time for that will come soon enough." Dumbledore replied simply but wisely. "For now, it is fortunate enough that he has agreed to come and join us in Hogwarts. I am certain he shall be able to recover quite nicely in this environment, around young people who need him and will very likely look up to him. What he needs more than anything is a distraction, to take his mind off recent events before he even thinks of doing something rash."  
  
"I certainly hope so . . ." McGonagall murmured, but before she could say more Dumbledore turned his gaze back the darkness beyond the gateway and let out an exclamation.  
  
"Ah! At last . . ."  
  
He raised his wand and pointed it at the heavy iron gates of Hogwarts Castle, and they immediately swung open. The two elderly teachers watched as a dark, hovering shape ended its gradual descent from the cloudy night sky until it landed back on solid ground almost noiselessly. The stranger then passed through the gates to come close to Dumbledore and McGonagall, his face still hidden and imperceptible in the unlit shadows.  
  
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall." a deep, rather weary sounding voice spoke. "I'm very sorry I'm late."  
  
"Not at all, my boy." Dumbledore assured him. "What matters is you have properly set your affairs in order, so that you can forget all about them in the meantime and just concentrate on getting settled into your new home here with us."  
  
"Well, it took more work and time than I had anticipated Sir, but yes. I have finished tying up all the lose ends. There is nothing more really to worry about when it comes to those matters."  
  
"Excellent!" Dumbledore said pleasantly. "You must be exhausted, then. Let us show you to your quarters now so you can get some rest. After all, you still have a class to attend to first thing tomorrow morning."  
  
The headmaster then held up his wand, whose tip immediately lit up to emit a bright light that penetrated the evening's darkness and reveal the face of the newcomer. Dumbledore beamed as he gazed upon the familiar face of a young man in his early twenties. He clamped a gentle hand on the young wizard's shoulder to give it a hearty pat.  
  
"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Darien." he greeted his former pupil warmly. "Or should I say, Professor Blaine?"  
  
* * *  
  
COMING UP . . . Chapter 2 - Defense  
  
Pls. don't forget to review! Thanks for reading! See you again soon . . . 


	2. Defense

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
  
Hmmm . . . not much reviews for my first chapter. But I guess that's normal. I've just gotten spoiled by the enthusiastic support of my LOTR readers. I just hope I can manage to get the attention of the HP fans in the succeeding chapters though . . .  
  
Thank you to the following few who were kind enough to leave me their reviews:  
  
I really appreciate your comments. Hope you keep reading!  
  
Not much Oliver Wood here. It's more of an introductory chapter to my OC, Darien Blaine. He's going to be playing a BIG role in this fic, so I hope you bear with me in the meantime as I focus on him. He's a pretty cool character, anyway, and I'm sure you'll end up liking him more and more as the story goes on.  
  
HAPPY READING!  
  
* * *  
  
WHO I AM  
  
Chapter Two - DEFENSE  
  
As she ran a brush through her long brown hair, Hermione studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror carefully and rather anxiously. What met her eyes was the face of a sixteen year old girl which was rather plain in her opinion, although very much changed from what it looked like last year.  
  
Hermione had grown and developed quite a lot over the during her fifth year and the summer after that. Her body had acquired a more attractively feminine shape, aside from gaining at least three inches in height. Her long, formerly bushy brown hair had toned down considerably as it grew out to fall to her waist, and was now soft and smooth flowing. Her pale complexion also seemed to have gained a darker, creamier, shade- probably as a result of the two weeks she and her family spent vacationing in Southern Italy.  
  
What's more, Mrs. Granger had fussed terribly once she began to realize that her baby girl had finally blossomed into a young woman, and went slightly overboard with her enthusiasm. What had ensued, much to Hermione's dismay, were endless trips to the beauty parlor for makeovers and feminine primping, and lengthy shopping expeditions for the trendiest in girls' fashions.  
  
By the time September rolled around and it was time to return to Hogwarts, the nerdy Ms. Granger's transformation from duckling to swan was complete. Even Harry and Ron had some difficulty believing it was her when they met up at Diagon Alley. And her two best friends were not the only ones to notice the changes. All the rest of her male friends at school have been treating her especially nicely, and she couldn't even figure out why . . . until Harry and Ron enlightened her.  
  
"I think they've all got crushes on you, Hermione." Harry told her with a serious look on his face.  
  
"Crushes? On ME?!" she had said incredulously. "Why would something as outrageous as that suddenly happen?"  
  
"Well, because you've changed." Ron replied absentmindedly . "You look like a girl now."  
  
"I think what Ron's trying to say is," Harry put in quickly, before a reddening Hermione was able to snap back at the thick-headed Ron. "You're become really quite pretty, Hermione, and all the boys are starting to notice."  
  
Pretty? Hermione pondered over this word as she stared at the reflection of herself in the mirror. Nobody has ever used that word to describe her before, at least not to her face. Somehow, when she looked at herself she just could not see how anybody would find her attractive. She never thought of herself as that sort of girl, and probably will never be able to.  
  
At last, she sighed and turned away from the mirror, and made her way out of the bathroom. Oh, what the heck was she stressing herself over anyway? It was not as if she ever really cared about physical appearances anyway, be it of others or her own.  
  
As she walked back into the bedroom she shared with Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, and Ginny Weasley, she heard sounds of hysterical giggling. She found Lavender and Parvati sitting on one of the beds, deeply absorbed in a magazine that lay open on Lavender's lap.  
  
"What are you reading?" Hermione asked, mildly curious as to what has gotten her silly roommates so worked up this time.  
  
"We borrowed it from Seamus." Lavender replied, holding up the magazine. It turned out to be an old edition of the sports publication, 'Quidditch Illustrated'. "Honestly, if I had known they featured so many gorgeous looking guys in here I would have applied for a subscription myself much earlier!"  
  
Hermione could not suppress an amused smile at the sight of her dreamy- eyed, practically drooling friends. "All right, so over whom are you two ogling this time?"  
  
Parvati grinned widely. "Who else? Our very own Oliver Wood." she sighed. "Oh my God, I still cannot believe he's here, right now. In this school. And he's going to be teaching Quidditch!"  
  
Lavender handed the magazine over to Hermione, who at once found herself staring at a full-spread article on the former Gryffindor team captain, which included a close-up of his devastatingly handsome, smiling face.  
  
"OLIVER WOOD: Youngest Puddlemere Keeper Also the League's Newest Heart Stealer."  
  
Hermione felt her heart give a little leap as she stared down at the deep, sultry chocolate eyes gazing back up at her. She never realized what a big celebrity Oliver was already. He really WAS as popular as all the girls have been raving about, and he most definitely was handsome enough to deserve all the fuss. What dismayed her was the fact that, for once, she could actually feel herself getting as excited as the rest of her female peers. Over a boy!  
  
Maybe she really has changed.  
  
"Do you think there's any chance in this world that a guy like him will notice girls like us?" Parvati's dreamy voice brought Hermione's thoughts back to earth. "I mean, maybe he was within our reach when he was just a student here like the rest of us, but he's become such a superstar now!"  
  
"Hey, it's not impossible." Lavender said hopefully. "He's only four years older, and it's not as if he was ever the picky, stuck up type of guy. You'll never know which one of us might just be able to catch his eye one of these days."  
  
Hermione's heart sank as she listened to this remark. That's it. That was exactly why she's suddenly become so conscious about her appearances. Just like the rest of the girls pining for Oliver, she unconsciously was hoping to be able to catch his interest, at least in some way or degree. Her run- in with him the yesterday was purely coincidental; she probably was never going to be as lucky again to get to spend a precious hour talking to him one-on-one.  
  
If she wanted to mean more to Oliver Wood than just another face in the crowd, she was going to have to compete with legions of his obsessive female admirers. And this time, even she didn't think magic could help her there.  
  
* * *  
  
"This has got to be the worst case of starstruck fever that's ever hit Hogwarts." Ron muttered, as he, Harry, and Hermione exited the Great Hall after breakfast to make their way to their first class. "Not even Diggory or Krum combined ever received this much attention from the girls!"  
  
Harry grinned. "Yeah, poor Wood." he remarked. "I bet he didn't expect to get this big a reaction from the Hogwarts students. It must be pretty bizarre for him to be treated like a huge celebrity in the school he was attending only three years ago."  
  
Just a few minutes earlier, Professor McGonagall actually had to rescue the Puddlemere United star from a mob of ecstatic fans-- all female- who had aggressively cornered him as he tried to sneak out of the Great Hall after finishing his meal. The exact same thing had happened at lunch and dinner yesterday, and the exasperated teachers were already considering deducting House points from any student who attempted to harass the poor Quidditch instructor.  
  
"Those girls really should buckle down and learn to control themselves as soon as possible." Ron said, shaking his head. "Wood's never going to be able to walk around freely or get anywhere with a flock of them swarming around him every other hour!"  
  
"Besides, how on earth he going to be able teach his Quidditch class properly if all the girls in school are going to be eyeballing him everywhere he goes? If I were in his place, I'd just go mad!" Harry mused. "It was a smart idea of Dumbledore's not to announce that Wood's going to be the instructor of the AQL till after the signing up period was over. If he did, every girl in school would have probably joined- and for all the wrong reasons!"  
  
Ron nodded and rolled his eyes. "Well, we can be thankful that we at least have a few sensible girls like Hermione left who don't let silly these crushes make them act like total idiots!"  
  
Harry laughed and nudged Ron's arm. "Uh, I don't think we can count Hermione as one of those sensible girls anymore." he whispered, jabbing a thumb in the direction of their friend.  
  
Sure enough, the pretty brunette who was walking alongside them seemed to be doing so in a trance-like state. She apparently had not even heard a word of the conversation of the two boys. Her eyes were slightly clouded over as though her mind was not quite there in reality but floating about in some deep thoughts of something. Or someone.  
  
"Earth to Hermione Granger!" Ron shouted.  
  
She gave a sharp jerk of her head, completely taken by surprise. "What?! What is it?" she asked, looking confused. "Sorry, were you talking to me?"  
  
Harry chuckled. "We were talking ABOUT you, actually."  
  
"You are a sell-out, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "I thought you would be above all that rubbish, but you're not, are you? You've turned into another one of them!"  
  
Hermione stared back at him in honest bewilderment. "What are you rambling about?" she demanded.  
  
"You fancy Oliver Wood too!" Ron practically roared.  
  
"Ron, shut up!" Hermione cried, hitting him on the arm and at the same time gazing around frantically to see if anyone had heard. Luckily, nobody seemed to have noticed or cared.  
  
"I do not!" she hissed, turning back to Ron crossly. The growing blush on her cheeks however, made it quite obvious that she actually did. "And even if I did, it isn't any of your business!"  
  
"Look, can you two knock it off?" Harry sighed, intervening once again before the pair could begin exchanging verbal blows. "This really is a pointless argument. Ron, just lay off her, okay? If she likes Wood, then that's her decision. I mean, she is a girl, and Wood apparently is the most popular heartthrob right now, so it's not such a strange thing for her to have a crush on him. Besides, she's right. Whom she chooses to fancy is really none of our business."  
  
Hermione threw Harry a grateful look, and Ron crossed his arms huffily over his chest, refusing to say anything else the rest of their walk to their designated classroom.  
  
Today was going to be their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class for the year. Their new professor had been unable to meet them earlier that week when their first session should have been, simply because, according to Dumbledore, he was not at the school yet. He reportedly had arrived late last night, but for some reason was not at breakfast in the Great Hall that morning. Hence the students still had not seen him nor had any idea of what he looked like. All the information the Headmaster would give them was his name- Darien Blaine.  
  
When they finally got to the classroom that had been assigned to them, they met Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas standing outside. They were reading a sign that was posted on the door. Harry came over and look a glance at it too.  
  
"Gryffindors, please proceed to the grounds beside the lake for today's Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Professor D. Blaine." Harry read aloud.  
  
"Outdoors on our first meeting?" Ron said, sounding slightly excited. "Cool! Sounds like this new teacher's into practical application. Lord knows we need it after that awful, useless hag we had to bear with last year!"  
  
By the time they made it to the lakeside, nearly all their classmates were already there, seated on the grass before a tall man dressed casually in a maroon turtleneck sweater and black denim jeans.  
  
Ron's jaw dropped open when he saw this man. "Blimey, is THAT our teacher?" he asked in an awed whisper. "But . . . he looks even younger than Bill!"  
  
Though Harry said nothing, he was thinking exactly the same thing. And, judging from the surprised look on her face, Hermione was too.  
  
At that same moment, the new teacher looked up and noticed their group approaching. Immediately he lifted a hand and waved them over.  
  
"Let's go, Gryffindors! We haven't got all day!" he called out pleasantly but firmly.  
  
He did indeed look much younger than their usual teachers-he did not appear to be any older than mid-twenties. He had raven hair that fell about his face in soft, shiny waves, and gleaming eyes that were nearly the exact same color as the water in the lake beside them. The smile on his face was warm and sincere, though slight traces of weariness and a mysterious sadness could be seen behind it. For some reason, Harry had the funniest feeling that this fellow was going to be thought of as quite good-looking by the girls.  
  
How right he was.  
  
He could hear clearly the furious whispering of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil somewhere to his right, punctuated by muffled giggles. The other Gryffindor girls were acting in a similarly silly way, all of them sneaking looks at the handsome but oblivious professor every few seconds. Harry rolled his eyes. Great. Just what they needed in Hogwarts that year. Another heartthrob in the teaching staff.  
  
He was about to lean over and whisper to Ron about this when their teacher suddenly spoke up again. His voice was deep and resonant, the sort that could catch hold of people's attention very easily.  
  
"Since most of you are already here, I suppose we can begin." he said, smiling down at them from where he stood in front of their little crowd. "I suppose the Headmaster has already informed you of who I am, but allow me to introduce myself anyway. My name is Darien Blaine, but you may call me Professor Darien or Professor Blaine, whichever you prefer. I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this term."  
  
His blue eyes drifted across the sea of eager young faces as he went on. "I apologize for not being able to come and meet you earlier this week, but I had some important business to take care of before I could come to Hogwarts." he explained. "You see, I'm not really a teacher. I have no actual experience in the formal instruction of DADA, but I came because Professor Dumbledore asked me for the favor, and I owe him a lot."  
  
"I graduated from Hogwarts myself only six years ago." He paused and grinned widely. "I'm proud to say that I too was in Gryffindor."  
  
He had to hold up his hand to cease the applause and cheers that followed before continuing. "When you boys and girls were first years, I was a fresh graduate, so unfortunately I would not know any of you personally. I may know some of your older siblings who had attended Hogwarts during my seven years, though."  
  
Blaine's roving gaze then stopped at Ron, taking in his flaming red hair and gangly form. "You're a Weasley, aren't you?" he asked curiously. When Ron nodded, he gave a hearty laugh. "I went to school with five of your brothers at least at one point in my life. What's your name?"  
  
"Ron."  
  
Blaine smiled and nodded. "Well, it's nice to have you in my class, Ron." he told him sincerely before turning his attention back to class. "Anyhow, I would just like to assure you all, that in spite of my lack of teaching experience, I AM quite knowledgeable in matters related to the Dark Arts, and would make you a fairly competent teacher. Thus, you will not have to worry about not learning anything in this class. By the time the term is over, I will make sure you are well prepared for passing the N.E.W.T.S. in this course next year. That's a promise."  
  
Ignoring the excited murmuring among the students that his little speech aroused, Blaine clapped his hands together and suddenly became completely businesslike and sober. The class hushed up at once to listen to the start of his lecture.  
  
"However, there is a far more important reason why you should have an effective DADA class this year. As you all know very well, a new war against the Dark Side has recently begun in the wizarding world." he said gravely, a somewhat dark look overcoming the pleasantness on his face. "Since the return of Voldemort . . ."  
  
As a collective gasp rose from the students at the mention of this name, Blaine threw them a very stern glare. "I have never called the Dark Lord by any other title than his real name, and I see no reason why the rest of you cannot manage to do the same." he said firmly. "Let it be known that I will not tolerate any He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named nonsense in my class. How are you supposed to conquer your fears of certain evils when you are not even brave enough to hear or say their proper names?"  
  
Upon hearing this, Harry had to nod in agreement and smile, though grimly. He could already tell that he was going to like Professor Blaine very much.  
  
"Anyway, as I was saying," Blaine went on, apparently unaffected by the impressed stares his new students were giving him. "Since the return of Voldemort and his supporters, it has become absolutely necessary for all people in the magical community to strengthen their skills in defense against the dark arts. It is crucial for even young wizards and witches such as yourself, for we will never really know when, where, and who might be attacked. We have to be prepared to handle the worst situations always, because in dark times such as these, ignorance and carelessness are what will make the difference between life and death."  
  
At this point, Harry noticed that all the his classmates had become completely entranced by the solemn words of their new teacher. Ron's jaw hung slightly open in stark admiration. Hermione was staring up at Blaine with wide eyes, as though she had just come face to face with Merlin himself. Neville had gone absolutely pale and breathless, with beads of sweat beginning to appear on his forehead. Even the girls had stopped whispering and giggling, and were now looking at the professor with something other than stars in their eyes.  
  
"I warn you now, this will quite possibly be your most critical and demanding class for the year." Blaine told them. "I intend to take my duty of training you to defend yourselves very seriously. You're not children anymore, and I don't plan to treat you as such. You will all learn to fight like the talented young wizards and witches I expect you have grown up to be."  
  
A small smile finally broke through once more through the gravity on his face, calming his nervous students to some extent. "You may find that my training methods are quite unusual compared those of your past teachers, but I assure you that I will give only my best effort in our classes. I expect you to do the same for me and cooperate in all our activities, different as they sometimes might seem."  
  
"Different in what way, Professor?" Lavender squeaked, so nervous it seemed she almost forgot her crush on the handsome teacher.  
  
"In my class, you will be learning more than just casting spells to ward off foul creatures." Blaine responded smartly. "Our focus will be more on dueling. Or, to put it bluntly, fighting against other wizards and witches. You will discover that there is much more to the art of magical combat than just simple wand waving."  
  
Harry hung to each and every word eagerly. This professor seemed to be exciting him more and more than any other teacher in Hogwarts was able to. It seemed that finally, they were going to be taught the forms of magic that really mattered; things that they truly needed and can put to good use.  
  
"For today, I will simply orient you on dueling by presenting a little demonstration. It will also serve as a taste of what you can expect from this class in the succeeding eight months." Blaine said.  
  
His gaze at the students then became scrutinizing as he appeared to study their faces at turn. "I will require a volunteer to assist me." he announced. "Anybody interested?"  
  
There was an awkward silence and motionlessness among the class as they stared at one another uneasily. Apparently they were all still feeling a little anxious about the Professor's warning that his methods were "unusual".  
  
Sensing their apprehension, Blaine rubbed his chin thoughtfully and tried another approach. "All right, then." he said slowly. "Maybe you can just point out to me who among you is the most experienced in when it comes to Defense Against the Dark Arts."  
  
"That's easy!" Dean Thomas called out almost immediately. "Harry of course! Harry Potter!"  
  
Harry felt his stomach drop as his other classmates echoed this nomination enthusiastically. Blaine's gaze immediately zeroed in on the student being pointed out and he smiled.  
  
"Ah, yes." the young professor said kindly. "Mr. Potter. I've heard so much about you. It's wonderful to meet you at last." He gestured for him to come forward. "Well Harry, since you seem to be the popular vote of the class, won't you come up front and join me, please?"  
  
"I've heard a lot about you and your experiences, Harry. About your run-ins with the Dark Lord." Blaine said quietly, clapping a firm hand on the boys' shoulder when he came close. "The fact that you've survived more than one encounter against him proves that you are indeed already skilled in defending yourself. But, as always, there could be room for improvement."  
  
He stared at Harry straight in the face. "Dumbledore spoke to me about you specifically, and it seems you are the student he is most concerned about when it comes to sharpening dueling skills. After all, it is without question that you will need it more than any other student in this school." He patted the boy's back meaningfully. "So if there is anything you wish to ask me for help with, I want you to feel free to do so at any time. Understand?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Thank you." Harry mumbled, rather uncomfortable with the idea of yet again being offered special treatment.  
  
Blaine smiled and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before turning back to the other students. "Please give Mr. Potter and myself a few minutes to confer about how the demonstration will go." he told them. "In the meantime, I would like for you to copy the following notes . . ."  
  
* * *  
  
Later, after ten minutes of discussion between him and Harry and furious scribbling from the rest of the class, Professor Blaine announced that the demonstration was almost ready to begin.  
  
"I talked it over with Mr. Potter, and he has advised that we take on a second volunteer to help us out." Blaine said with a nod. "Ms. Hermione Granger, can you please join us here?"  
  
Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at the professor motioning for her to come forward. Knowing that she could never refuse a direct instruction from a teacher, she shakily got to her feet and came to stand beside her friend.  
  
"Why me?!" she hissed in Harry's ear the moment she was close enough.  
  
"I pointed you out and told him to choose you." Harry replied somewhat nervously. "After all, no one's mastered more spells than you, Hermione."  
  
"But I don't get it!" Hermione said, sounding panicked. "What is it that we're supposed to do anyway?"  
  
"It's really quite simple, Ms. Granger. No need to worry."  
  
Hermione let out a little gasp upon realizing that Professor Blaine had come to stand right beside them. She flushed red with embarrassment, but Blaine merely smiled at her kindly and went on explaining.  
  
"All I want is for you and Harry to throw whatever jinxes and curses you can at me." he explained. "In other words, I want you to assault me. In any way you know or choose."  
  
Hermione stared back at him, not quite sure she had heard him correctly. "You want us to try and hurt you?"  
  
"As best as you can, without holding yourself back." Blaine replied with a nod. "Don't worry, I promise not to harm you." he assured her. "I won't fight back. All the spells I'll be doing will be purely defensive in nature." "Just keep throwing attacks at me. Don't stop, even when I fall or get hit. That's very important, otherwise this whole activity won't work out as we want it to."  
  
"B-but Professor!" Hermione stammered, not feeling very good about this whole idea. "Wh-what if we actually do something wrong and we hurt you?"  
  
"Then it would be my fault for being so stupid and letting my guard down." Blaine responded firmly. "I know this takes guts Ms. Granger, but you can do it. Just remember that I'm ordering you to do it."  
  
And with that, the teacher turned away from the two friends and walked over back to the class to tell them where they can safely stand and watch while the demonstration is going on.  
  
"I don't like this." Hermione mumbled to Harry when they were alone. "I don't like it at all."  
  
Harry shrugged. "Don't tell me! He's the teacher." he pointed out. "Besides, I don't think there's a need to worry. We're only students, and he's a fully trained wizard. I don't think there's anything we can possibly throw at him that he can't handle."  
  
"You'd better be right." Hermione grumbled, pulling out her wand out of her robes as Professor Blaine called them over to begin the duel. "Can you imagine the sort of trouble we'll get into if we end up maiming a teacher?"  
  
As they re-joined him, the professor lifted his own wand and pointed it at the ground, muttering a few words under his breath. The outline of a huge, glowing circle about twenty feet in diameter suddenly appeared on the grass.  
  
"This is our sparring ring." Blaine explained to Harry and Hermione. "None of us will be able to step out of the circle as soon as the duel begins, and should one of our spells miss its target they won't be able to get past the circle either. That way there's no chance of us accidentally hitting bystanders."  
  
He stepped inside the circle and motioned for them to follow. "Come on, it's about time we started."  
  
"Now," Blaine said carefully, after they had positioned themselves at opposite ends of the circle and properly bowed to each other. "Hold up your wands . . . and at the count of three, start casting your spells." He took a stance with his wand raised over his head. "One . . ."  
  
Her heart beginning to race a mile a minute, Hermione lifted her wand up with a trembling hand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry do the same from where he stood beside her. Though she knew he had to be as nervous as she was, his grim face showed no signs of worry or fear.  
  
"Two . . ."  
  
"I can't believe I'm doing this." she thought desperately. "Dueling with a teacher . . . this is crazy!"  
  
"Three!"  
  
"Impedimenta!" Harry bellowed. Red sparks shot of his wand, heading straight for Professor Blaine. A few Gryffindors girls screamed from the sidelines.  
  
But with lightning quick speed, Blaine reacted. "Expletus scutum!" he cried, tracing a half circle over his head with a flick of his wand.  
  
The students gasped in amazement as the red sparks of Harry's spell suddenly vanished into thin air about a foot away from hitting the teacher.  
  
Upon seeing this, Hermione let out a sigh of relief. Then, feeling more confident now of the match, she swished her own wand forward.  
  
"Tarantallegra!" she shouted.  
  
Sparks shot out from her wand as well, but they vanished to nothingness the same way Harry's had-a short distance away from hitting Professor Blaine. That's when she noticed that there seemed to be a silvery, nearly transparent barrier that surrounded the wizard like a protective dome.  
  
"He's using a dome shield!" Hermione exclaimed to Harry. Then, thinking fast, she gave her wand another swish. "Finite incantatem!"  
  
Taking the cue from her, Harry pointed his wand at Blaine almost simultaneously. "Petrificus totalus!"  
  
But still their teacher was too quick for them. Realizing immediately that Hermione had pulled down his shield, he held up his wand to meet Harry's spell. "Declinatio!"  
  
The sparks, instead of hitting him, suddenly turned into a harmless flash of light.  
  
Now caught up in the excitement of the duel, Hermione decided to try another approach. She pointed her wand at a nearby log that was once the trunk of a massive tree. "Mobiliarbus!" The log easily rose several feet from the ground. With another swish of her wand, Hermione sent the enormous projectile flying at Blaine at top speed.  
  
"Has she gone mad?!" she suddenly overheard one of the girls shriek. But, as she had expected, the worry was unnecessary.  
  
"Orbis incendere!" Professor Blaine shouted, waving his wand in front of him in a swift, circular motion. A flaming ring of fire materialized out of thin air, and the log flew straight into it, coming out as a shower of ash at the other side.  
  
Harry used the same spell to send a shower of rocks flying at Blaine as well, but they were all consumed by the ring of fire hovering continually in front of the wizard like a shield.  
  
Afterwards there came a brief pause in the duel as both Harry and Hermione thought hard of what spells to throw next. Their opponent just seemed to have a ready defense for everything! But then, the teacher suddenly did something very unexpected. He dropped his wand hand to his side and lowered his head slightly, as if studying something on the ground. It seemed that he was putting his guard down on purpose, and this could very easily be taken advantage of.  
  
Hermione lifted her wand but hesitated in casting her spell right away, so it was Harry that seized the chance.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" the boy yelled.  
  
There were shouts of alarm and surprise from the Gryffindors as the disarming spell sailed across the sparring ring and struck the defenseless teacher solidly. Blaine was blown clear off his feet and sent soaring back through the air. What was even more astonishing however, was the way he took the hit. While most people who got hit by the disarming spell hurtled ungracefully and landed spread-eagled and painfully to the ground, Blaine took the fall differently from anything any of them had ever seen before. By pulling his arms to his chest and rolling with the motion of his body through the air, he was able to land on the grass painlessly and scrambled back up to his feet in a split second, though his wand was now on the grass at least ten feet out of his reach.  
  
"Mobilicorpus!" Harry cried, pointing his wand relentlessly at his finally unarmed opponent.  
  
But with a swift dive, Blaine moved out of the path of the spell, and avoided the attempted body bind. He turned a somersault towards the center of the sparring ring, much to the astonishment and delight of the student spectators, and tried to make another dive for his mislaid wand.  
  
Hermione, however, anticipated this intent and sent a Stunning Charm at him, forcing him to dart away and retreat to a safe distance once more.  
  
For about the next half minute, Harry and Hermione ganged up on Professor Blaine and sent him racing around the circle using various spells, but he turned out to be as quick and agile on his feet as he was with his wand. He managed to dodge at least a dozen unsuccessful attempts until one of Harry's body binding spells finally caught him on the legs.  
  
But Blaine obviously wasn't willing to go down easily. As his legs froze up and he began to fall helplessly to the ground, he pushed hard on his feet and gave one last great leap towards the center of the ring. His outstretched fingers closed in around his wand just as Harry and Hermione came running to finish him off.  
  
"Immobilis!" Hermione shouted quickly, in an attempt to prevent him from regaining his weapon.  
  
But, just as quickly, Blaine lifted his hand and gave his wand a very tricky looking wave. The sparks that burst from Hermione's wand flew directly to his and was absorbed cleanly into its tip, much to the amazement of the students who had never seen such a move executed before.  
  
"Resonare!" Blaine cried, pointing his now glowing wand at Harry and Hermione.  
  
Hermione let out a shriek of surprise as she suddenly felt every part of her body stiffen up and completely freeze, and she then realized that the teacher had thrown back her own spell at them.  
  
She and Harry could only watch helplessly as Professor Blaine freed himself from Harry's leg bind and picked himself up from the ground. The Gryffindor students were cheering like mad for him at the sidelines, clearly impressed by the terrific show.  
  
Still rather breathless from all the running and dodging, Blaine approached Harry and Hermione with a smile. He tapped them at the shoulder at a turn to release them from the Immobilis spell before speaking.  
  
"Congratulations, Harry. Hermione. You were terrific back there." he told them sincerely. "You think fast, and are able to conjure very effective spells. It is clear you have had a considerable amount of experience in this sort of thing."  
  
"Oh, we were no where near as good as you, sir." Harry protested, with a somewhat dazed shake of his head. "You were incredible! Where and how did you learn to move like that?"  
  
"And those blocking spells!" Hermione spoke up excitedly, her brown eyes now sparkling with eagerness to start learning. "I've never seen anything like them before!"  
  
Blaine laughed good naturedly and nodded. "No need to worry." he assured them. "I'll be instructing you in the use of all those tricks and much more in the coming months. Today was just the first day, and with bright students like you, I am certain you will be able to catch on most of the lessons in no time."  
  
Hermione and Harry exchanged excited and happy glances as the teacher escorted them out of the sparring ring to rejoin the rest of the class. No doubt about it, Professor Darien Blaine was quickly proving himself to be the coolest DADA instructor they'd ever had.  
  
Things were certainly looking up this year, all right.  
  
* * *  
  
COMING UP . . . Chapter 3 - Coach 


End file.
